Never Again
by Rebellwithoutacause
Summary: It was time for him to walk the path he had chosen. The path where he and Charles were quasi enemies and quasi friends, but never again what they might have been. Rated M for slash. Don't like Don't Read.


**_Well what do we have here folks? Why, its an X-Men: First Class fanfic! Saw this movie today, loved it, had to write something for it. And this is what happens, a rather long songfic/one-shot. This was in part written for another writer and a dear friend but also because the ship I've sailed in this fic was sooo cute, I had to do it. Anyway. If the summary didn't give you a clue, this fic takes place during the events of X-Men: First Class (and thus contains SPOILERS!) and centers on Charles and Erik. _**

**_**Warnings**: Brace yourselves, this fic is explict SLASH, boy on boy, so if you DON'T LIKE, then DON'T READ! I am not going to listen to ANY flames based on that fact, kthanx. So if some slashy lemon doesn't appeal to you, TURN BACK NOW! _**

**_Another little fact, I wrote a lot of these scens based on the scenes in the movie, but I'm quite sure the dialogue will be off. Probably a good thing, since its my fanfic and not a repeat of the script. Also, because the lyrics are a little cryptic, I will add which lines go with which charrie just for your convience. =) Enjoy guys!_**

**_Disclaimers: I don't own anything to do with X-Men and I don't make any money. I also don't own the song which is Father Sky by VersaEmerge. _**

**_(Erik and Charles)_**

_What a deal I've worked with Father Sky_  
><em>He's given me a choice with time<em>  
><em>Walking straight on lines<em>  
><em>Don't let our ankles roll<em>  
><em>You've got to tip toe<em>  
><em>Not to hurt your soul<em>  
><em>Our bodies take a toll<em>

_You move the Pacific_  
><em>You move...<em>

**_(Erik)_**

_Tearing through the light of your horizon_  
><em>I try to find a way to screw my head on right<em>  
><em>Tell me to confess, but I have no regrets<em>  
><em>You've got me by the neck<em>

**_(Charles)_**

_It's raw to my leather flesh_  
><em>I gave my best away<em>  
><em>To no one specific<em>  
><em>You're no one specific<em>

_A bone chilling culture mess_  
><em>And still the vulture over my head<em>  
><em>Is threatening my sense<em>  
><em>Digging deep inside my chest<em>  
><em>Realize we're loving less<em>  
><em>Oh, and I gave my best away<em>

_You move the Pacific_  
><em>You move...<em>

**_(Erik)_**

_Tearing through the light of your horizon_  
><em>I try to find a way to screw my head on right<em>  
><em>Tell me to confess, but I have no regrets<em>  
><em>You've got me by the neck<em>

**_(Charles)_**

_It's raw to my leather flesh_  
><em>I gave my best away<em>  
><em>To no one specific<em>  
><em>You're no one specific<em>

**_(Erik and Charles) _**

_Who are you when no one's watching?_  
><em>'Cause I always find myself talking<em>  
><em>To someone in time with me<em>  
><em>To who do you speak, but never see?<em>  
><em>To who do you speak, but never see?<em>  
><em>(You're no one specific, you move the Pacific, you're no one specific)<em>

**_(Erik)_**

_Tearing through the light of your horizon_  
><em>I try to find a way to screw my head on right<em>  
><em>Tell me to confess, but I have no regrets<em>  
><em>You've got me by the neck<em>

**_(Charles) _**

_It's raw to my leather flesh_  
><em>I gave my best away<em>  
><em>To no one specific<em>  
><em>You're no one specific<em>

**_(Erik and Charles) _**

_(What a deal I've worked with Father Sky)_  
><em>To no one specific<em>  
><em>You're no one specific<em>

_(What a deal I've worked with Father Sky)_  
><em>You're no one specific<em>  
><em>You're no one...<em>

Since that day he'd been cold. Cold like stone. No, like metal, like the metal he twisted and bent, warped to his will. The day when a smooth, metallic bullet had been fired from a gun and stole the life of the only person who had ever loved him. His mother. The only hope he'd ever had while suffering in the death camps, no better than a lab rat. His hands balled into white knuckle fists just thinking about it.

He'd blamed himself for years and years, cursing himself that he hadn't been able to stop the bullet, or the gun, or Shaw himself. The guilt that ate at him was like a parasite and sapped all his strength, his will to live, his ability to use his powers. Until the glorious day when he awoke and realized it wasn't his fault. It wasn't within his power to stop Shaw. But it definitely was within his power to make sure Shaw could never wreck another person the way he himself had been wrecked. And he'd do it so slowly he'd wish he'd never been born.

Except now things were…different. No, no they weren't. He told himself they weren't different. Absolutely nothing had changed. He was going to find Shaw, and he was going to kill him, and then his mother would be avenged.

Except that it was different. And the difference had a name.

Charles Xavier.

The man was younger than him, almost too young to be so intelligent. It felt wrong to be upstaged every time he turned around by someone like Charles. Except that there was a certain fascination that the same antics caused.

But they weren't antics, were they? Ever since Charles had been thrust into a position to help other mutants, he'd become serious. Very serious. Raven had mentioned to him a few times that Charles had been quite the player (or at least attempted to be) before this had happened. Erik thought he could still see those antics behind those sea blue eyes. Those eyes were like deep wells that drilled far back into the telepath's head and into his soul. Every time Erik looked into those eyes, he felt himself drowning, his purpose slipping, his head spinning.

Ironically enough the first time he'd met Charles he'd been about to drown. He could remember feeling the submarine dragging him into the depths as he attempted to force it to the surface. He could still feel the way his body screamed from the pain and the pressure as he refused to release his hold on the sub's metal.

He also remembered Charles' arms around his body, squeezing him, trying to drag him upwards. Charles' frantic voice in his head, urging him to let go, else he would drown. Unwilling, Erik had listened to the telepath.

He was still unwilling to be honest. He knew what went on behind Charles' eyes, every time they locked gazes. His own were cold, a mask of steel, hiding the seething turmoil inside him as he wrestled with his purpose. There was a part of him that hated locking eyes with Charles. Because it distracted him, it begged him to release the hatred, the rage, the pain, all the things that gave him strength and focus to use his power.

But there was a part of him, a part of him he didn't like to acknowledge, that wanted to believe Charles. That wanted to believe him so much that it physically hurt like someone kicking him in the chest. He only ever recognized that part of him when he lay in bed, alone in the dark and the nightmares would haunt him. The nightmares that reminded him of the things he'd seen and the things he'd done. The animalistic rage that had so utterly consumed him he had thrust a knife into the palm of a man's hand. Twice. And of course, the memories of his mother's death the old pain like a bone that had been broken and never healed. He still woke up crying sometimes, and every time he did he would shoot up in bed and clench his forearm where the ink had been driven into his skin against his will and shake.

If he believed Charles, if he believed what Charles saw in him, he would have to abandon his rage and his pain and accept what the telepath believed. That humans were not out to get them, that they would be accepted and treated as equals, that they would not be enslaved. He would have to trust the man, but above all, he would have to let go of his vendetta.

Because Charles wouldn't stand for the loss of life, not if there was any other way. Erik didn't understand it; what was so horrible about the destruction of someone so evil, so vile, who had done so many crimes against humanity? He couldn't understand how Charles could stand by, knowing the pain that Shaw had inflicted and not feel as though he didn't deserve to die. That it was for someone else, someone who hadn't even felt a modicum of the pain Shaw had inflicted, to decide justice. It wasn't right.

Still, he couldn't get the picture of those sea blue eyes out of his head. Those eyes that held the depth of the oceans themselves in them, that made him shiver unwillingly. Just as that incredibly pale, but flawless skin and his milk chocolate hair that was tinged with gold in the dying sunshine that spread like water over the New York estate where they'd been hiding out and practicing did. It was getting to be that instead of those nightmares stalking him, images of the young telepath swam across his mind's eye as he slept.

The days passed and Charles continued working with the entire team to help them improve and focus. Like always, Erik kept to himself for the most part. As much as he wanted to be in Charles' presence, he was afraid in the same measure. He didn't want the telepath knowing what was going on in his mind: his confusion, his resentment, his still present urge to find Shaw and butcher him, and above all his growing desire to know what it was like to get underneath the Charles' skin and make _him _feel something even close to what he made Erik feel.

So, the metal bender fell back on his usual M.O. He slid himself into the corners and the crevices of the massive mansion (not a hard thing to do in a place like this) and avoided everyone. Even Raven's presence was something he tried to avoid, even if he did have a certain soft spot for the girl.

However in a house with a telepath, you can't stay hidden forever, as Erik quickly found out one afternoon when he was in the mansion's expansive library. He heard the footsteps and the creaking of the wooden door before he saw Charles, but he didn't need sight to tell him it was the mind-reader. There was no reason for anybody to come in here unless they were looking for someone.

"Erik." Charles said in his calm, quiet way.

Erik turned to see the object of his thoughts (he hadn't decided if it was affection, obsession, confusion, or a weird blend of all three) standing a few feet from the door, looking straight at him with those incredible eyes. He found himself swallowing and stiffening and inwardly cursed. He shouldn't be afraid of Charles. He didn't abuse his powers.

At least he hoped he didn't.

"Did you need something?" Erik asked politely, although his words were pointless. He'd grown familiar with the younger man on their travels while rounding up other mutants, familiar enough to know when Charles was after something and wouldn't be easily swayed.

"You've been absent lately. The others are working on their powers and…"

Erik silenced him by speaking before Charles could finish. "And you want me to do the same, well I think you and I both know that out of everyone here with maybe you being the only exception I have the best control. I'm fine."

Charles blinked and in just that one motion, Erik saw a world of swirling thoughts in those eyes and in his chest he sighed. Charles was determined, and when he got like that it was nigh impossible to dissuade him.

"I think we could all do with more practice, you and me included. Come on." Charles motioned for Erik to follow and that was when the metal controller caught sight of something in Charles' hand. He recognized it immediately; the smooth, sleek shape of a handgun.

"What's that for?" Erik asked as he obediently followed Charles. The telepath led him out of the house and away from the building onto the gravel path that snaked through the grounds and surrounding trees. It was a beautiful late summer evening, the air neither too warm nor too cool with just a light breeze blowing, delicately ruffling that milk chocolate hair atop Charles' head. Erik swallowed again but forced his face to remain impassive as Charles turned to face him.

Charles leveled the weapon directly at his head and pulled the hammer back, and from this point blank distance Erik could see the safety had also been clicked off. His heart started to beat a little faster and he could feel the tinge of sweat on his palms, but his mind was strangely calm. Now this was a situation he was more familiar with.

"Going to shoot me, Charles?" Erik chided, unable to stop his smirk.

"Maybe." Charles said. "Could you stop me?"

Erik's smirk broadened. "You know I could." He said quietly.

His heartbeat continued to increase along with his breathing as Charles stepped right into the ring of his personal space and let the barrel of the gun rest against his forehead. The metal was cool and very hard, unforgiving, but it was difficult to pay attention to the potential threat with Charles so close. The summer breeze was wafting the telepath's scent straight into Erik's nose and his brains turned to absolute mush. The smell of fresh cut grass, clover, ivy flowers, and the sun itself wrapped around his grey matter and rendered it useless and if it hadn't been for instinct, Erik was sure he would have swayed on the spot.

"Really now?" Charles pressed, his finger delicately tracing the trigger. "Let's test it."

Erik readied himself. He'd seen Charles push the other mutants to what was probably past their limits, and each time they'd risen to the occasion. Except that as Charles continued to caress the trigger, Erik could sense the boy's resolve was weakening. His eyes wavered, his hand shifted and twitched, the metal of the gun moving and vanishing from his skin just slightly.

"Come on, do it! You know I can stop it!" Erik encouraged. Now he really did want to see if he could stop it. He was confident, he'd done similar things, but this close, with the telepath's smell still intoxicating him, it would be more a challenge to focus than Charles realized.

"I…I can't!" Charles finally panted. He dropped the gun and half kicked a particularly large stone in the walkway. "I can't shoot someone, not at point blank range. Especially not a friend."

Erik let out a huffing breath of irritation. He'd psyched himself up for nothing. "Do it! You know I can stop it!" he exclaimed.

Charles didn't lift the weapon but let his eyes meet Erik's. "Then that's not much of a challenge, is it?" he retorted. He motioned for Erik to follow him and led him to a small rise where they could overlook the huge satellite dish.

"Try to turn it towards us." Charles said, as if he was asking him to try and find a missing book in the library that couldn't have gone far.

"What…that's…that's impossible! You know I can't." Erik protested.

Charles looked straight into his eyes and shook his head. "Just try." He urged softly.

How could he say no to that look? It was impossible, just like moving that dish, but something had to give, and honestly it was easier to give into Charles than it was to move the dish. He faced the immovable object and thrust both hands forward, willing all his power to mesh with the metal and shift it to his will.

Oh he could feel it alright, but it was like trying to tug a mountain up an even bigger mountain by hand over your shoulder with a rope. He pulled and pulled and pulled, straining every muscle in his body, his skin flushing red, sweat breaking out. He gasped as he finally let the power go and almost staggered with the release of the force. Charles stayed close but Erik turned to look at him and shook his head.

"You know, I think our power's greatest might lies in the middle between rage and serenity." Charles said quietly, his body now facing towards the dish, looking out at the sprawling landscape. It really was a beautiful estate, the tops of the dark emerald trees swaying gently, the vibrant green grass smooth and unblemished. The air was sweet and untainted, but even more inviting was the telepath's scent.

_Between rage and serenity? _Erik thought. He couldn't remember a time where he had known such a place. Where he had been neither viciously enraged or completely at peace, but somewhere in the middle. It occurred to him with mild curiosity and worry that was probably a bad sign but Charles stopped his thoughts.

"Erik, I just want to help. May I?" Charles looked deep into not just his eyes, but his very soul and even though every fiber of Erik's being resisted, he nodded his head.

It was the most peculiar sensation having a telepath explore your brain. It was like fingers in completely smooth sand, or maybe more like water, swimming and exploring, searching for something. It had the potential to be vicious and rough, but Charles was gentle in his searching. Pictures and images flashed before Erik's eye and he realized he was no longer staring out at the tranquil estate, but memories were replaying in front of him just as clear as if he was reliving each one, but only for a split second before it vanished. Until at last the rapid picture show halted on one memory in particular.

The room was dark, and he couldn't see much except for a large, thickly iced cake, many candles stuck in its surface, firelight flickering on each one. Across the large dessert he could see his mother's face, worn from the stress of taking care of her only son completely on her own, but her eyes glittering brightly with joy. He could hear her soft coo as she sang to him in German and Erik could feel his heart squeezing.

He closed his eyes as the memory faded, but there was a part of himself that was still there, still relishing the wonderful smell of the cake, the flicker of the candles, his mother's voice, the feeling glowing in his chest. His eyes and cheeks warmed and he felt a single tear slip and spill down his cheek.

He opened his eyes in time to see that Charles had also let a solitary tear fall. He brushed it away and met Erik's eyes.

"I didn't know I still had that in me." Erik could hear the wonderment in his own voice. He hadn't been able to recall any memories with his mother, save for the memory of her death. It had been too painful. Why couldn't he have recalled this?

Charles nodded. "Between the rage and the serenity." He murmured.

Erik turned back to the dish. This time as he thrust both hands out, he felt the might of his own power spilling through his veins wrapping itself around the metal of the dish. Now he didn't need his physical strength or the violence of his anger. The power alone and his focus was enough. It took some doing but sure as the sun was setting the dish began to shift and slowly turn towards them. When it was almost completely facing them Erik released the power with an exhale.

He turned and saw Charles smiling brightly. He looked so beautiful like that, and Erik realized that this was the closest he had ever come to feeling love for someone besides his mother.

It was late and Erik found himself up in his room, joined by Charles. The younger mutant had brought up an intricately carved wooden chess set and suggested they play a few games. The disturbing news that had reached them, the signal they would move out tomorrow and put their skills to the test, to stop the destruction of two super powers, perhaps even the world, needed time to be processed. They didn't have that time though. They had less than twenty four hours before they would risk life and limb for people who despised them. Erik still didn't understand.

Yet when Charles had knocked upon his door and had shyly asked to be admitted, holding the folded chessboard, Erik hadn't been able to say no. He had known what was coming. Surely some kind of lecture, about how they were there to save man-kind and not there to get revenge on Shaw. Erik was willing to listen, but that didn't mean he'd follow orders.

He'd never been good at following orders.

"Killing Shaw won't bring you peace, Erik." Charles warned. He positioned his most powerful piece, the queen, in a terrible place. Erik quickly spotted the opportunity and snapped it up, seizing the queen with his own.

"Peace? Peace was never an option, Charles." Erik said.

They'd been back and forth about this ever since they started playing. Voices had never raised, curses never uttered. The two mutants hadn't known each other long but they had too much respect for each other to be lowered to such standards.

"Checkmate." Charles murmured. With a single swift movement of his knight, he trapped Erik's king without retreat, thus ending the game.

Erik looked up at the mutant. Charles opened his mouth to speak, standing up from his chair as he did so.

"Why don't you trust me?" Charles whispered, his voice so low that Erik almost didn't hear him.

Erik also rose. "I do trust you." He refuted quickly.

Charles shook his head. "You don't trust me. You don't think that the humans will lose their fear of us, even if we save them from nuclear holocaust!"

"Humans will never lose their fear of the unknown!" Erik insisted. He stepped away from the table where the chessboard still lay. He crossed the room and went to stand by the large window. The curtains were drawn back and the land offered him a glorious view of the grounds, now coated in silver moonlight that spilled from the sky, casting everything with a glowing edge. He stared out into the watery darkness, straining to see an answer, a truth, something he knew wasn't out there.

Charles had followed him; Erik could sense him standing at his shoulder. The man didn't measure up to the metal bender in height, but the weight of his presence more than made up for his stature. The piercing of his gaze forced Erik to turn and face him.

"Erik, if we rise against man-kind, we are no better than Shaw himself."

Erik couldn't help but shake his head. "You would say anything to stop me, wouldn't you? Why?" He honestly wanted to know, it was a question that had plagued him ever since he had first met Charles.

"I've seen your mind; I know your pain, better than anyone else. But I know better than anyone else too that you are a better man!"

He didn't know what possessed him to do it. Maybe it was the threat of death hanging over him, maybe it was the anticipation of the culmination of his life's work was so close he could almost feel it in his bones, or maybe it was just the magical way the moonlight danced in Charles' eyes, but Erik leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed him the way he'd been dreaming of kissing him for what felt like eternity. He slid his palm against his cool, alabaster cheek and into his soft, silky hair and let his lips press against the telepath's and apply gentle, steady pressure.

To his complete and utter amazement, Charles didn't struggle or shove him away in disgust. Instead he sighed deeply and let his own hand wind into Erik's short tresses and pull him closer. Erik could feel the raging desire pulsing his beneath Charles' skin and he was amazed that he hadn't seen or felt it until this moment.

Charles deepened the kiss, parting Erik's lips carefully and winding his tongue inside the German's mouth. Erik groaned quietly, loving the onslaught of sensations wracking him. It wiped everything else out and left him standing just in this moment. A moment filled with the taste of summer heat and the gripping urge of lust and desperation winding its way everywhere across his body in the form of Charles' free hand that wasn't fisted in his hair.

Erik used his power on the hinges of the door and forced it to swing shut and then continued by sliding the locks into place before letting both of his hands rake Charles' lean form. His hands prowled the telepath's body like two predators, squeezing and nipping where they chose, especially on the younger man's hips, pulling him flush against his own body, causing Charles to groan in such a sexual way, Erik's last resolves of dignity completely crumbled.

He maneuvered Charles to the large bed but didn't give him room to scramble onto the mattress. He pinned him against the furniture and stripped him of his shirt, Charles doing the same to him. This much skin on skin contact made Erik's head spin violently. Every place they touched it was like electricity sparked and sent jolts deep into his flesh, making him pant. Sweat was starting to break out on Charles' skin and Erik was eager to find out what the beads tasted like.

He dropped to his knees and nuzzled Charles' toned abdomen, using his teeth to gently nip his skin before lapping with his tongue. He tasted like salt and earth and like the silver moonlight that was spilling onto the floor beside them, of the night and of the shadows in the darkness. Charles moaned softly, his body trembling while his hands wound into Erik's hair, compulsively threading through the strands, trying to not let his knees buckle.

When Charles gently pulled on his wrists Erik got back up to his feet and followed the telepath onto the bed. Charles was wriggling out of his pants by the time Erik had situated himself between Charles' raised knees. He hovered over the mind reader and lowered his head down to nip and nuzzle at his neck, gently applying just enough pressure to make Charles groan again and buck his hips upward.

The telepath was desperate to get some friction to alleviate the almost painful hardness that had resulted from Erik's exquisite torture. He didn't know why he was going along with this. Part of him was afraid of Erik, and part of him was so attracted to him because of that fear it was almost inhuman. And still another part was desperate to comfort the man who he know to be in so much pain that he was desperate for a distraction, even going to these lengths. And when he could have probably had anybody, he chose him. Who was he to argue with that?

Charles took matters into his own hands and removed Erik's pants and underwear. His breath caught in his chest as Erik pressed his groin against his own and used his teeth on his neck. The smaller man arched up into him, one hand scrambling on the bed trying to gain some leverage, and the other was fisted into Erik's hair. He had never done this before, never even come close, but he had an idea, and apparently so did Erik, because the metal worker made short work of his own underwear and used his free hand to tease and stroke him to complete and aching hardness.

"Erik…" he panted. Sweat had broken out on both of their bodies, slicking their skin as the older man continued to grind down against him. Hell, this was driving him crazy. His body hummed with a massive need, need for completion, need for fulfillment, something, anything to satisfy his pleasure which was on an uphill cusp. He needed something to shove him off that cusp and he needed it desperately.

Erik seemed to have an idea. He reached over towards the table at the head of the bed and fumbled in the drawer for a minute before pulling out a small, clear bottle. Charles tilted his head in confusion.

Erik smiled and kissed him to soothe what he realized was his partner's hesitation. As he slid his tongue between Charles' lips to explore his mouth, his head spun wildly and his body shook. He didn't know if he'd ever have this feeling with anybody else, this helplessness, this want, this all consuming need to posses.

He coated his fingers in the lube he had procured from the drawer and gently tested Charles' entrance. The smaller man let his eyes flutter open, still confused, but then Erik heard his voice in his head.

_I trust you _he murmured.

Erik gently slid one finger inside and probed slowly, seeing Charles wince slightly. He continued to stretch him using first just the one finger but then two and then three. Charles's eyes snapped shut and his head arched back on the pillow as his chest heaved for air.

Erik retreated his hand, sorry he had tried to push the boy this far, because really he was too young to be a man. But he knew the lie of those thoughts the second that Charles' opened his eyes to search for his own. Charles was no boy. He had seen too much and made too many dangerous decisions and done too many risky things to ever be a boy again.

"Don't stop." He panted.

"I don't want to hurt you!" Erik insisted.

Charles eyes hardened and Erik recognized that adamant, immovable look. "Without pain there can be no pleasure." He said cryptically.

Erik shook his head but a smile broke out on his face. He kissed Charles again and reached for the bottle, this time using the lube inside on his rock hard erection. He wanted to spare the hurt but he could see that leaving Charles like this would probably be worse. After putting him through the pain of stretching him, there should be a reward.

Charles winced and bit his lip as Erik slowly pressed himself inside. He halted several times when he saw his lover's fists completely white knuckle, his eyes scrunched up.

"You have to relax." Erik whispered in his ear, gently mouthing the outer rim, causing Charles to shiver.

Charles did his best to do what Erik said. When Erik was seated all the way inside, his thighs pressed tightly against his, he forced his hands to unclench and his eyes to open. This was the strangest feeling he had ever experienced in his life, but it wasn't a bad one. Being filled so completely wasn't like being overwhelmed by the thoughts that often crowded his head. It was much better than that.

Erik slid away and then back in slowly, giving Charles a taste of what was to come. The man winced but he urged Erik to continue with his thoughts, as he seemed incapable of speech. This time Erik did as he was bidden the first time rather than resisting. It was better to push through this to get to the real pleasure than to linger here where, at least for Charles, there was only pain.

Erik set a slow but steady rhythm, doing his best to let Charles adjust, but to also experience this for himself. He'd never felt anything like it. So warm, so tight, so intimate, it was enough to cause his heart to pound against his rib cage. It took every ounce of his self control to hold back, to not tear into Charles and give him more than he could handle before he was ready.

_Think I can't take it? _Charles jabbed into his mind. _I think you'll find I can. _

To prove his point Charles used his thighs to clench Erik's hips and force him to come down harder. Erik groaned at the sensation and the last of his control completely shattered. His rhythm increased sharply and Charles was left to cling for dear life. His body was wracked with sensations: pleasure, pain, fullness, emptiness, sweat, chill, breath, and so little oxygen he could hardly think at all. He found himself moaning in a never ending stream, his tongue losing its ability to form words as he half strangled half groaned Erik's name into the man's ear.

_Lost for words? _Erik broadcasted his thought loud enough for Charles to hear, even through his pleasured haze.

_Faster! _The smaller man demanded. To impress this point even further he fisted his hand into Erik's hair and used his teeth to tease a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

Erik obliged him, going all out, the sound of their skin meeting and their labored breathing filling the room as the smell of both their lust fogged their minds. Charles shifted slightly, twisting his hips, but the motion made Erik strike a spot that caused stars to burst around his eyes and light to fill his vision completely. He whined loudly as Erik struck the spot again and sent a massive wave of pleasure spilling through him.

_Like it? _Erik jibed before refocusing and continuing to pound that sensitive pleasure button for all he was worth. It wasn't long before Charles was clawing at his naked back and arching up against him. Erik could already tell that if he didn't do something, the sounds Charles was making was going to have the fire brigade come running up here wondering what the commotion was, and they certainly didn't need that.

One last burst of speed and that was all Charles could take. He howled as his orgasm wracked his body in powerful spasms, sticky white ribbons slicking both their stomachs, but the sound itself was swallowed as Erik kissed him to muffle his cries. He was still trembling quite heavily when Erik groaned long and low and slammed into him one last time before spilling his seed thick and hot deep inside him, marking him for his own.

The man collapsed onto his lover and just lay there, exhausted, coated with the evidence of their sin, but he couldn't have cared less. He never ever wanted to move from where he lay. The most he was able to do was slide off of Charles chest, allowing the man to breathe more comfortably, but he didn't go far, merely maneuvering himself and his lover so they were under the blankets and then he pulled Charles against him to mold against his slightly curled body.

"That was…" Charles couldn't even finish his sentence, he still hadn't gotten his breath back.

"That was that." Erik finished for him, kissing the back of his neck, nuzzling the edge of his hair which was tinged in sweat.

"You know I can't sleep here." Charles said heavily. "You know they'll be looking for me in the morning. Or even earlier."

Erik sighed. Damn him. Why did he go and ruin it? He couldn't have just laid there until he'd fallen asleep?

"Let them be damned." He retorted lazily. Charles tried to pull away but Erik wrapped his arms around his lover and held him still as he struggled weakly.

"Erik, let go." Charles ordered, but Erik would have none of it. He merely held on until Charles gave up and relaxed. It didn't take long before he completely melted and sank into unconsciousness, murmuring something Erik couldn't make out. He supposed it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was right now, because tomorrow when the sun came up and they were all risking their lives, he knew Charles would never look at him the same way again.

"Erik, don't! Those are innocent human beings! People with, hopes, ambitions, dreams, loves!" Charles screamed at him over the screeching of the missiles, the crash of the waves, and the burning of the trees behind them on the beach.

Erik turned to him but continued guiding the sleek, deadly weapons towards the ships. He had to do this. Shaw was dead, but it wasn't enough! They'd been fired upon, hoping to be wiped out, and he would be _damned _if he'd let it happen! They had every right to exist, just as much, if not more, than they did! They were evolution, the next phase of the human race!

"They'll kill us if we do not kill them, Charles! You don't understand!" he yelled and clenched his fists, willing his missiles even more speed.

"Erik, no!"

Charles sprang forward and tackled him, causing many of his missiles to explode in mid air, but a good portion were still headed towards the ships. They had seconds before impact, but Charles wrestled with him for all he was worth. Erik didn't know how far the man would go to stop him. Would he kill him? To save the humans? Such a poor trade in his opinion.

Erik kicked him away and halted the missiles in mid air and turned to the man he had just shared his bed with during the night. Even now, covered in sand and blood, his eyes desperate and terror stricken, he was beautiful. He would always be beautiful, if only for his soul that if anything was untainted by the bigotry and warmongering that surrounded them.

"I have to, Charles. They'll destroy us."

"Erik!"

Charles scrambled to his feet, but Erik had willed the missiles on, but his focus was broken. The sound of bullets popping racketed through the smoky air, disrupting his concentration. They struck off his helmet and deflected wildly as he swung to see Moira firing at him. At first it was all white noise, nothing registered, until a wild screech of pain split the sky louder than any missile, the last of which had finished exploding harmlessly in mid air.

"Charles…" Moira whispered as Erik staggered backwards, horrified at what he saw. Charles lay in the sand, his body twisted, his hand desperately clutching the small of his back. All he could see was Charles' naked body as he lay beneath him, the way he touched and kissed every inch of that flawless skin…now maimed and blood slicked.

Erik muscled Moira out of the way and carefully placed his hand on Charles' back. Using his power he easily extracted the bullet that was already smashed in, having made contact at such a high velocity with Charles flesh and bone. The boy whimpered in agony as Erik rolled him over. The metal manipulator gently supported him in his lap and removed his helmet, cradling his lover and his only friend.

"It's not personal, Charles. You must know that." Erik whispered.

"I know…" Charles panted. "Erik, you can't become like him. You're more than that."

"I won't be enslaved, Charles. Never again." He nuzzled him and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. He didn't care if the entire world saw. From this moment on, they were not friends but enemies, their alliance shattered, their love as fragmented as the broken shells upon the beach.

"Take care of him." Erik looked to see Moira approaching, looking at him with hatred, fear, and something else he couldn't identify. It didn't matter. Charles was in good hands, his remaining team would ensure his survival.

Mystique knelt down gently beside him and whispered her goodbye, and Erik could feel the crippling pain wracking the telepath, both physically and mentally. He suspected that Charles was projecting it on purpose, as if it would stop him.

It almost did. But then Erik turned where the rest of his followers were waiting and he saw the ships out there, hovering like an ominous thundercloud. Charles had made his choice and now he had made his.

There was nothing left but to weather the storm, but he knew in the same place he had known that Charles had, had him figured out all along that this was most definitely not the end. That was why he had tried to leave last night, not because he was afraid that someone would see, but because he had known despite the ultimate gift someone could give, their own body, it wasn't enough. Maybe he really was less than human, to walk away from such a gift.

But he wasn't human. He had not been human for years, and now it was time for him to walk the path he had chosen, the path on which he called himself Magneto. The path where he and Charles were quasi enemies and quasi friends, but never again what they might have been.

**_Long eh? But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Reviews make the Muse happy. Please? =) _**


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